Chapter Four
NY’Airy Buckle
I woke up sore in places I didn’t even know could be sore. My arms felt like they were about to fall off, my thighs were screaming, and my back felt like a Sumo wrestler plowed on it. I laid in bed, staring at my ceiling, like it had the answers to the questions that were plaguing me.
Why the hell would I willingly put myself through so much torture?
Wouldn’t it be easier to just say fuck this and get some tacos?
Why was this weight so easy to gain if it would be this hard to get rid of?
After several moments of silence, I realized that if I didn’t know the answers to these questions, I couldn’t expect a painted piece of wood to know either.
“Get up Bitch,” I sighed loudly.
I had to force myself out of bed even though every bone in my body felt like it was on fire.
I had to force myself to put on my workout clothes, grab the bag, and drive back to Brick & CO, because if I didn’t, I would lay there and sulk in soreness.
I had only been going to the gym for one full week, thirty minutes every day.
The day after I signed up, I returned and I was immediately paired with a nutritionist and an accountability partner.
After being weighed, discussing my goals, and getting a thorough breakdown of my macros and micros I was given a full grocery store list, and a week’s worth of recipes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
No more eating out, no more snacking, no more sugary sodas, and juice my diet was stricter than a drill sergeant.
When I left the nutritionist’s office, my partner and I went to work.
I was paired with a woman named Layla. She had been on her weight loss journey for eight months and she was down sixty pounds.
Looking at her before and after pictures and listening to her story inspired me.
I loved the fact that the gym paired new members with accountability partners who were on a similar journey but at a different phase.
It was like showing you a snapshot of the person you could be if you stayed consistent and showed up for yourself.
No cheating, no dangerous skinny shot that would make you thin in three weeks while damaging your liver, simply hard work, eating clean, and not giving up on yourself.
“You’ve got this. Like Layla said, if she can do it, so can I,” I told myself as I struggled to sit.
I swung my legs off the bed and immediately regretted being alive, then rolled my eyes at myself for being so dramatic.
My gym bag sat in the corner waiting for me to pick it up and daring me to give up on myself like I had done when I first bought it.
I got dressed slowly, slipping into my leggings and T-shirt, then went into the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and get my messy hair together.
“You don’t have to go today,” I told myself while combing my hair into a ponytail.
“You have your first weekly check-in. Of course you have to go,” I answered myself.
After finishing my hair, I grabbed my bag and went downstairs so I could make my pre-workout breakfast. My stomach growled in anticipation.
I walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a Greek yogurt, some crushed granola, and berries.
After mixing them up to make a small yogurt bowl, I ate the bowl and grabbed my Stanley cup, filling it with two liters of water.
I was still hungry, but I knew that eventually my body would catch up to the fact that I had lessened portions and decided to stop inhaling junk every five minutes.
It was only minor discomfort, and it would pass.
I grabbed my full Stanley cup and headed out.
By the time I got to Brick & Co the parking lot was full as usual.
I circled the parking lot twice before finding a spot that directly faced the gym’s entrance like my car wanted a front row seat to watch me suffer.
I sat in my car for a full two minutes before getting out.
When I made it inside, I walked up to Shelly and held out my wristband so she could beep me in.
She smiled at me encouragingly, and I smiled back at her before going to the conference room to meet up with Layla.
I walked past a group of construction workers inside of a nearby conference room.
It looked like they were building something.
A sign on the outside of the door said, JUICE BAR LOADING.
I smiled and walked inside the conference room where my accountability partner and nutritionist were waiting for me.
“Hi ladies, how are you?” I asked them as I sat in a seat across from them. I was told when I signed up that my tier of membership came with weekly meetings to check in on my progress to see how things were going with my team.
“I’m good, and you are even better. You have been kicking ass I’m proud of you,” Layla smiled at me warmly.
I nodded and smiled back at her before turning to my nutritionist, “I threw out all of the crap like we discussed and went shopping and bought everything on the list. I have been preparing the meals and eating them on the exact schedule you gave me,” I told her honestly.
“How has it been?” she asked me as she opened my file and began to jot down notes.
“It has been hard. I have still been feeling hungry, and it’s making me moody, but I know that it’s worth it and I need to stick it out and get my body adjusted to eating better,” I told her honestly.
The more I thought about what I was doing for myself, the better I felt.
Sure, I was sore and hungry, but I felt stronger than I had in a long time. I was proud of myself.
“Well, today you will start working out with your assigned trainer. Then, you and I will alternate working out together every other week. So, this week you are all his. This is the first week where your time will increase from a mandatory 30-minute session to a mandatory hour session. I will work with my trainer this week as well. Next week you and I will work together for an hour, then you will alternate back to him,” Layla told me.
I sighed internally. I had almost forgotten that my personal trainer would be the fine ass co-owner of the gym who made women melt into a puddle on the floor whenever he came near them.
Since I realized he was married, I went out of my way to not look at him.
I didn’t want to be like all of the other women in the gym, smiling at him, blushing, and flirting.
As a formerly married woman who was now divorced, I would have bet all the weight in my ass that there were beautiful women who had been throwing themselves at my ex-husband the same way when we were married.
Eventually, he gave in, and I didn’t want to be responsible for making another woman feel the same pain I felt every morning I woke up heartbroken and alone.
I looked over at the nutritionist who was blushing.
“What are you over there smiling about?” I asked her. I was annoyed that I couldn’t take another week with Layla and work out with Cozart next week. So, to see my nutritionist smiling like she just had a sex flashback made me even more annoyed than before.
“You are training with Cozart’s fine ass. All I can say is good luck,” she bit her bottom lip.
“Isn’t he supposed to be at this meeting?” Layla asked. I was glad to see that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t melt at the mention of his name. I was sure that Layla was a lesbian and she didn’t melt at the mention of any nigga’s name. I turned around in my seat fully and faced the two women.
“I don’t see what the hype is about Cozart, honestly,” I began as I looked over at Layla, and her eyes were wide as she slightly shook her head no.
“Layla, someone has to say it. I know he has rank because he’s one of the owners, but we are still allowed to have an opinion,” I dismissed her.
“So yeah, he has muscles. He always walks around shirtless so we can see them, but guess what? So do the rest of the five hundred men that work out here. He’s not the only man here with muscles!
All of the women just swoon when they hear his name.
Look at her over there drooling. When I first saw him, I was mesmerized, but he’s married, and he just flirts like he isn’t.
The way he is with women just makes him so unattractive to me.
I swear this is why he thinks he’s GOD’s gift to women because women in this gym act like they have never seen a man with muscles before,” I concluded my rant with a smug smile.
“The muscles ain’t the only reason. You gotta see the way I put a woman through the mattress if you really want to know why I think I’m GOD’S gift.
I show better than I can tell, you free later?
” I heard his voice and jumped slightly.
I turned towards the door and Co stood in all of his shirtless, muscled, sweat glistening glory.
“I um,” I stuttered unsure of what to say next and wondering why neither of those bitches told me to shut up because the man I was talking shit about was standing right behind me.
First, he had attempted to shake my hand and I left him hanging, then he walked into a conference that was designed to help me lose weight and I was talking shit about him.
I was going to get kicked out of the gym and thrown on my head.
He folded his arms and leaned up against the door, watching me stutter to come up with the words.
“I apologize. If you don’t want to work with me, I understand that was very tasteless and unprofessional of me,” I told him solemnly. I hoped that he would agree and just turn me over to another personal trainer so I wouldn’t have to be around him for an hour each day.